Jonathan Alderton and the Chamber of Secrets
by yoneld
Summary: Sequel to Jonathan Alderton and the Sorcerer's Stone. Jonathan Alderton is a twelve-year-old boy who studies at Hogwarts and I still suck at summaries. Enjoy!
1. The Birthday (Ron's Dad Abuses Our Bell)

_A/N: I'm going to have to get used to saving these things in the Chamber of Secrets folder. Eighteen chapters, and then __I'm moving on to Prisoner of Azkaban. Should be fun._

_Okay, so just in case you missed the last story in the series, Jonathan Alderton and the Sorcerer's Stone, this is a self-insert – Jonathan Alderton is me, and his family is my family. Otherwise, this is completely canon. Wait a moment, what am I doing? If you missed the last story in the series, read it now. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer_: I. Am. Not. Joanne. Rowling.

I know you probably don't like recaps, so I'll do this shortly. My name is Jonathan Alderton, I'm twelve years old, have brown hair, brown eyes, I'm very small for my age, I study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which, as you probably guessed, is a school for wizards and witches (I'm a wizard), I have two sisters named Mary (7) and Taylor (4), my best friends are Hermione Granger, Dean Thomas, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. Last year, Harry saved the world from his parents' murderer, Lord Voldemort, who's basically a wizard Hitler. I think that's it.

On 4 July, 1992, I had a small birthday party. I had invited my best friends – Hermione, Dean, and Ron, along with some of my friends from primary school and Hogwarts. I had also invited Harry, but he couldn't come, probably because his uncle didn't let him.

"Twelve, eh?" said Steve Warren, a blond boy who was in my class in primary school. "I'm almost thirteen."

"So am I," said Hermione, a girl with bushy brown hair, brown eyes, and large front teeth. "My birthday's in September."

"I'm not," said Neville Longbottom, a short, round-faced boy. "My birthday's at the end of July."

"Mine's in March," said Ron, a tall, red-haired boy with many freckles. "And my brothers, Fred and George – they're the biggest pranksters in history, and their birthday is on April Fools."

"Nature's practical joke," I said, and we all laughed.

"My birthday's in May," said Dean, a dark-skinned boy who was even taller than Ron.

Just then, my mum brought in the cake (an orange cake with icing – I had specifically asked for it not to have chocolate so my mum could have some too; she was allergic to chocolate). I blew out the candles, wished that this year would be quiet, and we all had some of the cake. It was very good, as usual – my mum was one of the three best cooks in the world, the others being both my grandmums.

After the party, all of my Muggle (non-magical) friends went home except for Steve, who stayed there along with Hermione, Dean, Ron, Neville, and Seamus Finnigan, a sandy-haired Irish boy. Steve, who had always been close to Dean, Hermione, and me, had helped us considerably last year.

"So what happened with that Philosopher's Stone thing?" asked Steve.

"Don't ask," said Ron.

"He just did," I said. "We told Harry and Ron about Flamel and the Stone, and… well, first I need to give you some background. Harry's parents were murdered by Lord Voldemort, who's basically a wizard Hitler, and then he tried to murder him but failed. The curse backfired, and Voldemort hadn't been seen since then. Except he wasn't dead – he'd become this sort of… thing. Anyway, he didn't like being that thing, so he tried to get the Stone, hitching a ride on one of our teachers."

"What d'you mean, hitching a ride?" asked Steve, frowning.

"He means that Voldemort started sharing that teacher – Professor Quirrell's body," said Hermione. "He had Voldemort's face on the back of his head. It turned out that Snape hadn't been trying to get the Stone or kill Harry – he was just trying to protect it."

"So one evening, Quirrell went down to the village next to Hogwarts," Ron picked up where Hermione left off, "and he got Hagrid, the gamekeeper, drunk, and he told him how to get past that three-headed dog."

"So after we finished our exams," I finished, "Voldemort decided to try again and Harry stopped him, but Flamel decided to destroy the stone."

"So he'll just die?" asked Steve.

"He might already be dead," I said. "Although Dumbledore – the headmaster – did say that he left enough Elixir of Life to take care of everything."

"Wow," Steve whispered.

"So what crazy adventures will you be up to this year?" asked Seamus.

"Hopefully nothing," I said. "I mean, adventures like that midnight duel Harry and I didn't have with Malfoy are fine, but the whole thing with the Stone? Helping save the world from Voldemort once was more than enough for me, and I'm sure Harry agrees with me."

Just then, the bell rang a few times.

"I'll get it," I said and went over to the door. It was Ron's father, a balding red-haired man with horn-rimmed glasses.

"Mr. Weasley," I said kindly, "you only need to ring it once."

"Oh, really?" he asked. "Fascinating! How do you hear it?"

"It's connected to a sound system inside the house," I said. "Come in."

Mr. Weasley walked in and stood there, gaping at the lights, the switches, and the plugholes. According to Ron, he had an obsession with Muggles and Muggle technology. I led him to the sitting room, where Ron was, along with Steve, Dean, Hermione, Neville, and Seamus.

"Hey, Ron," said Mr. Weasley. "Have you seen all this stuff? They have lights that use eckeltricity or whatever it's called –"

"Electricity," said Hermione.

"- and plugs and a felly-tone!"

"Telephone," said Hermione.

"And…" he said, his eyes wandering to the television. "Is that a teller-vision?"

"Dad," said Ron, "I don't think it's quite the time."

"What?" asked Mr. Weasley. "Oh, right. Well, it's been a pleasure."

"Thanks," I said.

"Well, bye," said Ron. "I expect I'll be seeing you over the summer."

"I hope so," I said. "Make sure your dad keeps his eyes on the road and not on the billboards."

"Right," he said and they left. Seamus' father and Neville's grandmother came to pick them up, too, and Hermione, Dean, and Steve went home soon after.

The next day, I wrote a letter to Harry:

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? Is your so-called family treating you okay? If not, tell me._

_I had my birthday yesterday – it was a shame you couldn't come._

_Do you want to come over this summer? We're going on a two-week trip to America – my mum said I should invite you._

_Jonathan_

I sent Athena off with the letter. She came back a few hours later without a reply. This didn't worry me, as Harry had his own owl. However, what did confuse me was that she was looking rather ruffled, as though someone had stopped her. Maybe she had just had a hard trip.

_A/N: So in the eighth grade, the school made me study with the ninth grade because I was learning nothing, and the ninth graders seemed huge – I felt like a little kid there (I was always thinking along the lines of "WOW those ninth graders are huge"), but they treated as if I was one of them – they even tried to keep me safe from the constant bullying of the other eighth graders, but somehow they just kept finding me. Anyway, so last year, when I was in the ninth grade I was like, "Okay, ninth graders are still pretty big, but that's because I'm a midget; if I was taller they'd seem average," and now that I'm in the tenth grade I'm like, "Aww, look at those cute little ninth graders!" Somehow, they seem much smaller on this side of the ninth grade. The average for each year must be getting smaller – it can't be that I've grown. Nope, no way. _:P

_I noticed that I'm getting lots of views from Poland, at least for Sorcerer's Stone. This really means a lot to me, as I'm part-Polish. Keep it up!_

_Sorry for the very short chapter, I just want to keep up with the book chapters, and since Dobby won't be visiting Jonathan, I have to split it here._

_**Review or Voldemort will hitch a ride on you.**_


	2. The Midnight Rescue (Fred Flies A Car)

_A/N: Had the craziest three months and I'm going to have another crazy month. Is this how my life is going to go on from now? Because if so, that's great – I don't like being bored. All I can say is that I'll have absolutely no time at home in the next 40 days or so, so I'll have to rely on school breaks._

_Yes, I know Rouhani seems nice, but he's a wolf in sheep's clothing. The person who really calls the shots in Iran is still Khamenei, and if Rouhani really was willing to end Iran's nuclear program, Khamenei wouldn't have let him run for the elections. Don't be fooled._

_It seems like Israel is going through one election after the other. There were the elections for the Knesset in January (but the government wasn't formed until March), the elections for the chief rabbinate in July, the municipal elections will be on the 22__nd__, and the presidential elections will be sometime next year. What's next?_

_I have a new cousin. He's two weeks old and he's adorable._

_Disclaimer_: I. DO. NOT. OWN. HARRY. POTTER.

Harry did not reply in the coming week either, and this worried me. I knew he wanted to keep in touch with us, so it was very suspicious.

"What's wrong?" asked my mum after finding me one evening staring at the window, waiting for Athena to come back. She must have realized I was waiting for a letter from someone other than Ron and Neville, as there were half-written letters to both of them on my desk.

"Harry hasn't replied to any of my letters," I said, not taking my eyes off the window.

"Well, maybe it takes time," she said. "I don't know how long it takes an owl to get from here to… where does Harry live?"

"Surrey," I said, "but last year I got letters from you every day and Hogwarts is in Scotland, so it can't be that long, can it?"

"Why would he not reply, then?" she asked.

"Wait a moment…" I said, thinking. Maybe Harry couldn't reply – because his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, wouldn't let him. "Harry let slip last year that things weren't so good at home for him. Maybe his aunt and uncle aren't letting him reply. Wouldn't put it past them," I added angrily, getting up.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To call Harry and see what's going on," I said, walking quickly downstairs. I grabbed the phone book but then remembered that it was only for Cambridge and the immediate surroundings and dialed _ instead.

"Hello, this is the main directory, how may I help you?" answered a female voice.

"I need the number of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," I said, hoping I didn't sound too angry.

"In what city?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," I said, "but close to Surrey."

"Hold on…" she said. After a few seconds, she said, "I've got Dursley, Vernon and Petunia, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging – "

"That's exactly who I'm looking for," I said quickly.

"I'll redirect your call, then," she said. The phone rang a few times, and then I heard a woman's voice saying, "Hello, Petunia Dursley speaking."

"Hello," I said, trying to sound pleasant. "Can I speak to Harry?"

"Harry?" she asked, faltering. "We don't have any Harry."

"Oh, yes, you do," I said. "I saw him not one week ago. You were there too."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, regaining her firm tone. Then, I heard something covering the phone and Petunia saying, "Vernon, someone's calling for the boy."

"Listen," I said in a low voice. "I know where you live. I can do magic. Now, unless you want me to come to Little Whinging, you will give Harry the phone and let me speak to him."

"I…" she started.

"I'm hanging up the phone and coming," I said.

"All right, all right," she said. "I'll give you the boy."

"He has a name," I said angrily.

After a while, I heard Harry's voice on the phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Harry, it's me, Jonathan," I said.

"Are you mad?" he asked furiously. "How did you get past the Dursleys?"

"Told them I can use magic," I said smugly.

"But you can't – "

"They don't need to know that, now, do they?" I said mischievously.

"You're mad," he said in disbelief.

"I know," I said. "Anyway, why haven't you been replying to any of my letters?"

"I didn't get any!" he said. "None of you wrote to me!"

"I did," I said, baffled. "I don't know about Ron, but I've been writing to you and Dean and Hermione have been borrowing Athena to write to you!"

"Then how come I didn't get any of these letters?" he asked.

"Maybe…" I said slowly, realizing something. "Could the Dursleys be stopping your mail?"

"Now that you mention it, they did lock all the windows in the house as soon as I set foot back," he said.

"I'm calling the police," I said angrily.

"NO!" he shouted. "Don't… it's fine –"

"It most certainly isn't fine," I said. "This is child abuse, and it's bloody illegal."

"But all the court proceedings… do you really want all that grief?" he asked.

"It'll be worth it once you're out of that bloody place," I said.

"But you don't know that'll happen," he said.

"Fine," I said. "I'm writing to Dumbledore."

"Don't –"

"I'll do anything to get you out of there," I said.

"Is there anything I can do to stop you?" he asked.

"No," I said resolutely.

"Oh, fine," he said, sounding resigned.

"Thank you," I said. "By the way, we're going to America for a week, around the end of July. Want to come?"

"There's no need," he said. "I'll be too much trouble."

"No, it won't," I said. "And if you're really worried about it, you can pay your ticket out of your own money."

"I don't have any," he said.

"Wizard money can be exchanged to Muggle money," I told him. "We can go to Gringotts and exchange."

"Thanks," he said. "Bye."

"Bye," I said, hanging up.

"Who was that?" asked Mary, who had walked into the kitchen while I was talking.

"Harry," I said.

"Who's Dumbledore?" she asked.

"Our headmaster," I said, "but he sort of sent us after the Philosopher's Stone last term." And with that, I went upstairs, took out a pen and paper, and started writing.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore_, I wrote, and paused to think. How was I supposed to tell him about Harry being abused? I decided to break it out in the most respectful manner. I sat down and wrote:

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Last year, Harry let slip that his aunt and uncle have been abusing him. When I came home, I wrote to him, but he didn't reply at all. I used the telephone to call him, and I reached the conclusion that they have been stopping his mail, and I am sure that this is not the only abuse Harry has known this summer. I would like to ask if you can take him out of there and bring him to the custody of someone who cares for him._

_Sincerely,_

_Jonathan Alderton_

I reread it. It seemed too demanding, but how could it not be? I left it out and instead wrote a letter to Ron.

_Dear Ron,_

_Harry's aunt and uncle have been stopping his mail and not letting him write back. We need to get him out of there. Ask Fred and George for something._

_Jonathan_

I gave it to Athena, and she flew off with it.

That night, I was woken up in the middle of the night by Ron.

"Ron?" I asked. "How'd you get here?"

"Look at the window," he said, grinning. I looked at the window and saw Fred and George looking at me through a car window.

"Hi," they said together.

"Either you have a really big truck, or your car is flying," I said. "My room is on the second floor."

"What's a truck?" asked Ron. I face-palmed and said, "Never mind."

Just then, Mary walked into my room. "What's going on? Why's Ron here? And why is there a flying car parked outside the window?" she asked.

"I have no idea," I said. "Why are you all here?"

"We're going to get Harry out of his aunt and uncle's," said Fred, who was at the wheel.

"That's great," I said. "You could've written a letter to tell me that."

"Nice to see you too," said George. "Don't you want to come?"

"Oh! Yeah, of course I do!" I said.

"Your sister can come too," said Ron. "Bet she's never seen magic before."

"I have," said Mary. "In Diagon Alley, and Jonathan, Dean, and Hermione wouldn't stop practicing their spells before they started Hogwarts."

"Well, are you two coming or not?" asked George.

Mary and I exchanged one look and said together, "Yeah!"

"Well, come on then!" said Fred.

"Hang on," I said. I scribbled a note saying, _Gone on a magic car ride, don't know when I'll be back_, ad said, "We're ready."

Fred moved the car forward so that the back doors were in front of the window. Ron, Mary, and I climbed into the back seat, which expanded to accommodate two more seats.

"Where are we going now?" I asked.

"To get Hermione and Dean," said Ron. "Where do they live, by the way?"

"You didn't bother to check where they live?" I asked, shaking my head.

"As if you're any better," said Mary.

"Shut up," I told her. "George –"

"I'm Fred," said the twin in the front passenger seat.

"Okay, Fred –"

"Just joking, I am George," he said.

"Okay, George, let me take your seat. I can get Fred there," I said. George got up and let me take his seat. I buckled up and navigated Fred to Dean's house. We stopped just outside the window. I climbed up, opened the window, and yelled at him to wake up.

"How the bloody hell did you get here in the middle of the night?" he asked.

"Ron's flying car," I said. "We're going to save Harry from the Dursleys."

"Save – what –"

"Long story," I said. "Come on."

Dean and I went into the car (Ron helped Dean in). "Step on it, Fred," I said.

"I'm George," he said.

"I don't care, whoever you are, step on it," I said.

"Just so you know, I am Fred," he said, stepping on it. I navigated him to Hermione's house. She was still up, reading. I knocked on the window. She looked up, saw us, and opened the window.

"Jonathan?" she asked. "Dean? Ron? Mary? What are you all doing here?"

"Nice to see you too," I said. "Come on."

"How did you get here?" she asked.

"Ron's flying car," I said. "We're going to save Harry from the Dursleys. Want to come?"

"That's – that's very irresponsible of you! What if the Muggles see you?" she asked.

"Oh, please," I said, rolling my eyes. "It's the middle of the night!"

"And if I, a twelve-year-old, saw you in the middle of the night, it would stand to reason that other people would see you too," she said.

"There's an invisibility booster," said Ron. "You're coming or not?"

"Oh – fine, but if we're tried for revealing the Wizarding world to the Muggles, I'm blaming you," she said, getting out of the window. As she sat, the back seat expanded to accommodate two more seats. I switched places with George and sat between Dean and Mary.

"So what's this saving Harry from the Dursleys thing?" asked Dean.

"Who're the Dursleys?" asked Mary.

"They're Harry's aunt and uncle and they've been stopping his mail and not letting him write to us," I said.

"Blimey," said Dean, "I knew Harry's home situation wasn't great, but I didn't think it was that bad!"

"You don't know the worst of it," I said grimly.

"How do you know about it?" asked Mary.

"Harry let it slip when McGonagall put us on the Quidditch team," I said.

We flew south towards Surrey. Fred, at Hermione's request, used the invisibility booster. When I looked out the window, I couldn't see the front mirrors, so I knew it had worked. After about an hour, we'd reached the southwestern edge of London's suburbs.

"George," I said, "do you have a map of the United Kingdom?"

"Yeah," he said, passing it back to me.

"Great," I said, searching the index for Little Whinging. I found it on the southwestern suburbs of London, just off the A217 near the M25 and navigated Fred there. When we'd reached the town entrance, I said, "It's a small town, so fly low."

"Right-o," said Fred, going lower.

"He lives on 4 Privet Drive," I said. Fred flew at the second-floor level and I looked around at the street signs. After about a minute of driving, I found Privet Drive. "Left," I told Fred. He turned left. I looked at the house next to me. It was Number Two. "One more," I told Fred. I looked at the windows around the house. The first one was the master bedroom. The second one was Dudley's bedroom. He had gotten fatter since I had seen him in the train station in June. I wondered how his bed hadn't yet collapsed. The third one was Harry's room. I was surprised he had one – from what Harry had told me last year, I had understood he lived in a cupboard. Maybe they were too scared of his magic or something. "That's it," I told Fred. He stopped the invisibility booster, and I could tell that it had worked by the fact that I could see the mirror again. I knocked on Harry's window. He looked at me in shock, then put on his glasses as though to make sure it really was me. He opened the window.

"Jonathan?" he asked.

"Yep," I said.

"Am I dreaming, or…"

"Well, if you're dreaming, that's very weird, because I must be having the same dream," I said. "Come on."

"Where?" asked Harry.

"That's a good question," I said. "Fred knows."

"Fred? What –"

"Get your things and get in the car," I told him.

"They're downstairs," said Harry. "The Dursleys locked everything in the cupboard."

"All right," I said. "Does anyone know how to pick locks?"

"We do," said Fred and George in unison.

"All right," I said. "George –"

"I'm Fred," he said.

"I don't care, whoever you are, the twin in the back – go downstairs and get Harry's things," I said.

"All right," he said, getting out. "Just so you know, I am George." And with that, he jumped into Harry's room.

"Careful at the bottom step, it creaks," said Harry. George winked at him and left the room. A few seconds later, I heard a creak from downstairs, followed by several coughs from a nearby room. George came back a minute later with Harry's trunk, broom, and wand.

"Did you hear that?" I asked.

"What?" asked George.

"You creaked on the bottom step," I said. "You might have woken someone up, too."

He cursed. "Well, get on quick, Harry," he said.

"Let Hedwig out, she probably hasn't stretched her wings in a while," I told George, who nodded and picked the lock on Harry's owl, Hedwig's cage. She flew out of the window and started circling the car. Fred moved the car so that the boot was next to the window. Harry put his trunk and broom in the boot and put his wand in his pocket, but just as he started climbing on the desk, Harry's uncle hammered on the door and it crashed open. For a split second, he stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle. Ron, Dean, George, and I seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as we could.

"PETUNIA!" roared Mr. Dursley. "He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!" But just as Harry's aunt came into the room, we gave a gigantic tug and Harry's leg slid out of Mr. Dursley's grasp – Harry fell into the car in a heap on Ron, Dean, Mary, and me. I slammed the door shut and helped Harry sit up between Dean and me. "Step on it, Fred," I said.

"I'm George," he said.

"Whoever you are, just step on it!" I urged.

"I was joking, I am Fred," he said and stepped on it.

Harry rolled down the window and shouted, "See you next summer!" at the Dursleys, who were hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window. We all laughed and Harry sat back down.

"So what's been happening?" asked Ron.

"Not much," said Harry. "The Dursleys didn't do anything to me, mostly because they're scared I'll use magic, but they locked all of their things in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Is that why they gave you a room?" I asked.

"No," said Harry, "they gave me that room a year ago when I was getting the Hogwarts letters."

"Thought you suddenly knew how to work your magical powers once you knew about them, did they?" I said.

"No," he said again. "They never let me read it. It was just addressed to my cupboard, so Uncle Vernon thought to confuse them by moving me to a different room."

"Cupboard?" asked Mary. "They let you sleep in a cupboard?"

"And worse," I said gravely.

"Anyway," said Harry, "I didn't get any letters from any of you, but then Jonathan called me and said he, Dean, and Hermione have been writing me and that I just didn't get the letters."

"I wrote too," said Ron. "So why haven't you been getting the letters?"

"Jonathan thinks the Dursleys have been stopping my mail," said Harry.

"And you did something about that, right, Jonathan?" asked Hermione.

"I was going to write to Dumbledore," I said, "but… I dunno… how d'you explain these things in a letter to the headmaster? So I wrote to Ron instead."

"So we came to get you," said Ron. "We probably would have at some point anyway, I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first –"

"Who's Errol?" asked Harry.

"Our owl," said Ron. "He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes –"

"Looks like I'm not the only one who names owls after Greek mythology," I said. "Who's Hermes?"

"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," said Fred from the front.

"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ron. "Said he needed him."

"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said George, frowning. "And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room… I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge… You're driving too far east, Fred," he added pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel.

"Where are we going? Not to your house?" I asked.

"First we're dropping you all off," said Fred.

"So, does your dad know we've got the car?" said Harry.

"Er, no," said Ron, "he's working tonight."

"Sounds like my mum," I said. "She works all the time."

"But my dad's always at work," said Ron.

"Oh," I said. "My mum takes some time to work from home."

"Well, hopefully we'll be able to get the car back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it," said Ron.

"We are going to be in so much trouble when we get home, though," I said and Mary winced. "Anyway, what does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic?"

"He works in the most boring department," said Ron. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"The what?" asked Harry.

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house," said Fred. "Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare - Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?" I asked

"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose," said George. "Dad was going frantic - it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office -and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up -"

"So isn't this car illegal? And how did you get it to fly, you're not allowed to use magic?" asked Hermione.

"Dad enchanted it," said Fred. "He's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

"There's Cambridge," said George. "And just as well – it's getting light."

Fred flew low and reached my house.

"Well, bye," I said to everyone.

"Bye," said Harry.

Mary and I climbed through the window into my room. I looked at my watch. "Four," I told Mary.

"It's Saturday night," she said.

"But they won't be awake – when did Ron come?" I asked.

"Around two-thirty," said Mary.

"So Mum and Dad were sleeping," I said, relieved.

"And they only wake up around seven or eight," said Mary.

"So we'd better be quiet if we don't want them to wake up," I said. "Good night."

"Good night," she said and left for her room. I slipped into my bed and went straight back to sleep.

_A/N: HOLY CRAP THIS CHAPTER IS 3,492 WORDS (ELEVEN PAGES) LONG. AND ONLY 500 WORDS OF THAT IS COPIED FROM THE BOOK. WHAT IS THIS MAGIC._

_Anyway… next chapter's the Aldertons' trip to America (Harry included) and Dobby will be in the story, don't worry! Chapter 4 will be the first meeting with Lockhart and in chapter 5 we'll be getting to Hogwarts._

_**Review or the Dursleys will lock you in the cupboard.**_


End file.
